Wasn’t going to happen. She’d dumped him without hesitation.
He hadn’t taken it well. At first, he’d begged her to give him another chance, but when that didn’t work, he became obsessed. Following her everywhere she went, showing up at her apartment, calling and texting at all hours of the day and night. His behavior was alarming, and it went on for weeks.
Then he turned destructive, painting the word “Bitch” on her front door and slashing all four of her tires. At least, she assumed the vandalism had been Tommy. She couldn’t be certain, since she’d never caught him in the act. He’d also started harassing her from a number and an email address she didn’t recognize, as if suddenly realizing an electronic trail wasn’t so smart.
But it wasn’t as if she didn’t have all the other texts and emails with his name attached, and she couldn’t imagine anyone else in her life wanting to damage her property.
His initial calls and texts, following her . . . all of that had been scary enough, but after the vandalism, she’d really started to worry. She’d shared her concerns with her mom and her best friend, Susie. Though they warned her to be careful, neither could offer much beyond a sympathetic ear.
She’d also gone to the police and taken out a temporary restraining order but suspected a piece of paper wouldn’t keep Tommy from continuing his harassment. And she was right. Even nastier texts and emails followed.
Ultimately, Carlise had decided to leave town for a while. Maybe if she wasn’t around, Tommy would finally move on with his life. Forget all about her.
Thankfully, she had a job that she could do from anywhere. She translated books from French into English. She’d hated the language when she’d first started taking it in middle school, but eventually she learned to love it, realizing she had a natural affinity for speaking and writing French. And of course, the year she’d spent in France while in college was the best thing she could’ve done to really learn the language.
She’d kind of fallen into the translation gig. She’d seen a post on social media from a French author, wanting to know if someone would read an excerpt from her book and make sure she had the English right—she didn’t—and that had slowly turned into a career, translating books from French to English. She wouldn’t have minded translating the other way as well, but most translators converting text to French were native speakers.
She’d just downloaded a new manuscript, so she wouldn’t need the internet for a while, although eventually she’d have to log on and manage new requests for translations and check her email. Carlise had been a little reluctant to get online for the last few days, just in case Tommy could somehow track her. She knew it was highly unlikely, and Carlise didn’t think he was smart enough to figure out how to do such a thing, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
She just needed a break. She’d become reluctant to leave her apartment, nervous to go to the store . . . to go anywhere, really, for fear of running into him. After the tire incident, she was worried his threats would escalate, with Tommy taking his frustration and anger out on her in even more dangerous ways.
She wouldn’t put it past him to burn her entire building down with Carlise inside.
So she’d hit the road without a word to anyone but her mom, though she didn’t tell her where she was heading because, well . . . she didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t have a destination in mind, her only plan to get out of town and hunker down somewhere.
She’d left Cleveland before sunrise two days ago. And clearly, she should have given her plan more thought. She’d changed her direction more than once, first heading south, then meandering east, and finally north.
The problem was, she didn’t know if she’d be safe from Tommy anywhere.
And worse, the more she drove, the more she couldn’t help feeling like everything happening was somehow partly her fault. Which was crazy. All she wanted was to find a man who loved her as much as she loved him. Not someone who would fly off the handle for something stupid and hurt her.
This morning, she’d found herself in Maine, and Carlise suddenly felt as if she could breathe for the first time in weeks. Fully charmed by all the small towns on her route, she decided to find one with a hotel, maybe a cute downtown area she could explore, and make that her home base for a couple of weeks before heading back to Ohio. Hopeful that, by then, the whole Tommy mess would have gone away.
She’d happily taken various back roads, enjoying the serene forests and quiet roads . . . until she’d realized she hadn’t passed a sign or even any other cars for quite some time. She’d briefly consulted her phone, but cell service was sporadic at best in the heavily wooded area. Her GPS app was useless.